Sorry, we just closed.

I can't see why some want to dream,
when this world so fascinates me.

I recall a fall day ago,
when my clothes smelled of smoke.
Dusk was an all night affair,
and I had a feeling to share.

The bags under my eyes,
a sign of my want to be wise.
A hopeful romantic in disguise,
long driveway goodbyes.
And I, never knew what I wanted to be.

Friend was a strange concept to me,
because all I needed was a family tree.
And I guess that never really changed.

All I needed for sanity,
was to hear I wasn't alone,
that thinking was a part of humanity,
and emotion wasn't the only way,
to talk about the unknown.

The secrets that live in my soul,
are modes of which I see the Dove--
all the little things I extol,
and the strange way I express my love.
But I care not for their array,
of singing and dancing and emotional display,
for I shall never betray,
what the Lord has worked within me.

My greatest fear is not to die alone,
but that who I am I cannot atone,
with another, so I'll live in solitude,
so with regret it will conclude.
For I have faith that he hath it in me,
so what is this life in comparison--
with what shall be?

Frustration is my hunger pain,
wisdom is my sweet honey
panic I cannot seem to maintain,
for reasons I have many.
I swim in love's pools in the morn,
sit in justice's rays by day,
and at night do I forlorn--
how I went astray.

What I'm not saying is how I cope,
what I mean by the star that grants me hope.
It's a small thing that I love, a token,
for the deepest secrets go unspoken.
Those of which not to speak I have swore,
so I wish to speak no more.